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My 6-year-old granddaughter phoned me in panic just after midnight. “Mommy says the baby is coming! Help!” I asked, “Where’s daddy?” She answered, “He k!cked mommy’s tummy and left.”…..

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Heard about your daughter. Sorry, news travels fast. Small town. Bad news travels faster. She said down the glass and leaned against the bar. What can I do for you? I understand you know Trent Huxley. Jun’s expression went carefully neutral. A lot of people know Trent. He’s what you might call a local personality.

I’m told you dated him. Ancient history. before he got married, before he got worse. She studied Harry’s face. You planning some kind of intervention? Because I already tried that once. Nearly got my teeth knocked out for the effort. No intervention, Harry said. I’m planning something else entirely. June was quiet for a long moment, sizing him up.

Finally, she poured two shots of whiskey and slid one across the bar. What kind of something else? The kind that ends with Trent Huxley not being a problem anymore. That’s interesting. Jun down her shot without flinching. Because I’ve been thinking the same thing ever since I heard what he did to Cassidy.

You willing to help? Depends. What do you need? Information? Where he hides his money? Who he trusts? What scares him? June laughed, but there was no humor in it. Trent doesn’t trust anybody. And the only thing that scares him is losing his money. He’s got about 50,000 in cash stashed in a safe deposit box at First National.

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